


Oh My Angel, My Darling

by lavenderlow



Series: stonathan oneshots [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, heed the archive warnings, warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-28 00:52:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13892784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlow/pseuds/lavenderlow
Summary: And when I get up to heavenI'll tell all the angels your name.Oh my angel, my darling,we'll be together, someday.





	Oh My Angel, My Darling

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE HEED THE ARCHIVE WARNINGS!  
> TW: implied/acted suicide! please stay safe, babes!
> 
> also i felt like writing angst. don't worry, chapter 3 of thanks sorry sure is in the works! i just needed a break from writing that and i decided to write this  
> the name and the lyrics from the summary are from the song "Oh My" by McCafferty <3

Jonathan walked the halls of the school with a heavy weight on his shoulders.

 

He watched as kids passed by him, their shoes stomping hard of the tiled floor, and he could feel each thud through his feet and through his body. It felt like he was wading through quicksand, and the halls weren’t really there- it was a quiet, dark tunnel, a light at the end. He didn’t know what the light symbolized, but he knew that he was supposed to walk to it, right?

 

Jonathan slowly continued to walk through the halls, an unexplainable feeling going through his body. He couldn’t feel his legs, he was so nervous, so on edge, his stomach felt like it was plagued with the worst case of butterflies, and his arms felt like jelly as they trailed along him, holding his school bags. It felt like today was not real. Today couldn’t have been real, everything that had happened was like something of a nightmare- and he wanted to wake up so, so bad.

 

The moment he woke up, he knew it would be a bad day. His boyfriend, Steve, had almost completely ignored him the day before, and had no idea why they made eye contact in the lunchroom as Jonathan sat alone at their usual table and Steve was sitting with Nancy and Barb, halfway across the lunchroom. From that moment, Jonathan was pissed the rest of the day, and even when Steve did try to approach him at the end of the day, he pushed him away. And if Steve had really cared, he would have continue to pursue him, like he usually did. But he didn’t. He walked away. He could hear him say to Jonathan as he walked away if he could have his hoodie back.

 

Yeah, he could have his fucking hoodie back.

 

So when Jonathan woke up, he had tears flowing down his face. That night, he had dreamed of Steve, in his room. He was standing by window with a horrible look on his face, looking down at Jonathan like he was scum. _“I wish I never met you,”_ He said, Jonathan feeling the tears run down his cheeks in rapid streams. _“You’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”_ He listened in his dreamscape as Steve continued to talk down to him, tell him how terrible he was, how he was a bad boyfriend, how he never did anything for him. When Jonathan woke up, he felt the same tears from his dream, but this time he knew they were real. He wiped them away, not wanting to believe the truth. It was safe to say he would be in a bad mood today. He was dreading the day before him, he knew what was going to happen, he knew exactly the turn of events that would take place. Jonathan would finish the day off crying in his bed, just like how he had woke up, and Jonathan wasn’t ready, not one bit.

 

Jonathan didn’t talk to anyone that morning. His head was fogged over, and he didn’t know what to do. He was pissed off at Steve, and when he saw him before first block in the courtyard, he didn’t smile at him. He just walked up to him as he was talking to some random girls, shoved his hoodie in his hands and walked away. He walked away without a second thought, no exchange of words, nothing. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea, maybe it was, maybe he was showing Steve that he could be assertive sometimes. Jonathan has been angry at Steve before, but usually Steve tried to calm him down, or apologize, even if he didn’t do anything, just to make Jonathan feel better.

 

It didn’t seem like that that was going to happen this time.

 

Within moments Jonathan regretted the decision, Steve probably thinks he’s an ass. Steve is probably going to break up with him.

 

It didn’t seem like a “probably” anymore when two minutes before the bell, Steve walked up to Jonathan at his locker.

 

“Hey, Jonathan,” Steve said, obviously white-knuckling his backpack. Jonathan knew what was happening. He knew exactly what was happening in this moment, and he wanted to scream. He didn’t know what to do, he wanted to leave, he wanted to run out of the school, out of Hawkins, run into a car, god damn it, he didn’t want to be here. He’d rather be dead. Steve looked at him with a tinge of remorse. Or maybe it was understanding. Whatever it was, Jonathan never wanted to see it again.

 

“Steve.” Jonathan croaked out, his voice low and raspy. He has worn it out probably by crying in his sleep. Steve’s expression went from remorse to almost something more of caring, like Jonathan was used to, but then it was washed away as Steve took a deep breath and looked down at the ground. _Fuck,_ Jonathan was going to start screaming in the middle of the hallways. The pain was too much to bear already and it hadn’t even happened yet.

 

“I love you. I do. I love you so much.” Steve said as he looked at Jonathan, a small smile on his face.

 

Was Jonathan wrong?

 

“But I think we need a break. _I_ need a break.” Jonathan was right. He was trying so hard to contain his cries right now. His body was yelling out in agony, he wanted to puke up the breakfast he didn’t even eat, it was the worst pain imaginable. If this was how he was going to feel- he didn’t want it anymore. He wanted to kiss Steve, it always made him feel better, but he caught himself before he almost instinctively leaned up to his lips, feeling an unimaginable pain in his heart. Steve broke their eye contact, looked to the side, and as he walked away he said a quiet “I hope you understand.”

 

The moment he was out of Steve’s earshot, Jonathan bolted to the school darkroom. No one ever went in there during the day, or any time for that matter, and he knew that if he was going to be alone anywhere, it would be there. So he pulled the door open as quick as he could and slammed it shut, listening to the first block bell ring loud enough that he had to cover his ears. Everything was too much, and if this was what heartbreak was, Jonathan never wanted to fall in love ever again. Never again.

As Jonathan realized he was alone, the first anguished cry left his lips in a quiet whimper. He fell to his knees, in the middle of the room, holding his heart. Tears were flowing down his face more than ever, like a raging river. His head was the source, his thoughts were racing, like _Why? What did I do wrong? Why was I not enough? Does he not love me? Did he ever love me?_ His stomach was turning, and Jonathan had to brace himself with an arm to make sure he wouldn’t topple over, but his arm was shaking so much it wasn’t doing much to support him. It was all too much, every part of his body was in pain, and was he really alive? He couldn’t breathe, like the air got knocked out of him. Everything was in a swift haze and Jonathan didn’t know what was happening.

 

It couldn’t have been real, right? He was still in his nightmare, and it was the worst one that he had ever had. But when Jonathan’s arm gave out from under him and he felt the pain as he fell to the floor, he knew it was real. And as the realization hit him, another cry escaped his lips, this time louder. He was choking on his own spit as tears were flowing harder than ever, forming almost a puddle around him. He laid curled up on his side on the floor of the darkroom, a sight for sore eyes.

 

He hurt. So bad.

 

So that was why he was already planning his Friday night. He walked in the halls, ready to go home. He waded through the quicksand that were his classmates as the final bell rang, students flooding the halls to leave. He caught glimpse of Steve, laughing and having a grand time with his friends when he was in the background, feeling the worst he’s ever felt. Did he deserve it? Obviously he did.

 

Jonathan climbed in his car and sat for a while. He looked around, looking for anything that could calm his nerves. He found one of Steve’s half-smoked cigarettes, and picked it up and fiddled around with it in his hands. He popped open the glove box in the passenger seat and grabbed his spare lighter, and he lit the tip of the cigarette. The smoke filled his car as he took a small drag, automatically causing his to cough out his lungs, it felt like. But it was okay. It was new. And Jonathan knew that the first way to move on would be to change himself from who he used to be. The Jonathan Byers in kahoots with popular kid Steve Harrington. He started his car, held his hand out of the window and took another drag of the cigarette as he started out of the school, passing by a group of people. What Jonathan didn’t know was that Steve was in that group, and Steve watched as Jonathan took a drag of his cigarette, looking solemn with red eyes and a lazy hand on the steering wheel.

 

* * *

  
  
  


As Jonathan swallowed his regrets, he started his car once again at midnight. His eyes were still puffy and red, because he hasn’t stopped crying since he got home. He could hear the crickets chirp in the dead of night, and for once, maybe it wasn’t annoying. It was almost calming, the best sense of calm he’s felt in a while.

 

He drove for about half an hour, on the edges of the Hawkins city lines. There wasn’t any houses or people down here, just forest. The was a bridge, though, over a river that leads to the next town over. It wasn’t very popular, though, because the people in Hawkins never really crossed over to Kirkland, Indiana, and the people in Kirkland didn’t cross over to Hawkins. Another thing was that almost no one in Hawkins knew about said bridge. At least, no one he knew.

 

When Jonathan pulled up, he grabbed a full cigarette he found in the backseat of his car, lit it, and took a drag. There were tears falling down his face, but this time, he was numb to them, just like he was numb to his heart beating faster than normal and his adrenaline rushing off the roof. It was windy tonight, his hair was blowing to the side in the gusts, and he could see the outlines of the trees swaying in the dim light of the full moon. Jonathan didn’t care to bring a flashlight, because he wouldn’t need one. He didn’t need anything, really, because where he was going, the only thing he needed was himself. Even though he didn’t really feel like himself right now.

 

When Jonathan thought of himself, he thought of Steve. He thought of his own smile, but only the one that he made when Steve said something funny or called him beautiful. He thought of the way that Steve held his hand over his shoulder when they sat on the couch, watching movies late one Sunday night before school, when they laughed about the homework they never did and how they were going to be screwed that Monday for school. When he thought about himself he thought about the way that Steve made him feel, because after almost a year and a half together, that was the only Jonathan he had come to know. Now he was back to old Jonathan, the one that sulked in the back of the classroom, hollow, lifeless cheeks, lifeless eyes, and a quiet voice.

 

Jonathan walked up to the edge of the bridge. He knew what he was here to do. He took a final drag of his cigarette as he kept in a cough, flicking the cigarette off the edge. The drop was high, Jonathan thought, as he looked over the edge. The wind was making the river run quick, white topping the waves and it ran rapidly down the bed. Jonathan shivered.

 

He swallowed an anguished cry as he felt tears down his cheeks.

 

They  dropped at his jeans as he sat on the edge, slowly slipping over, his feet touching the railing as he hung off the bridge, his hands barely holding on.

 

Jonathan’s whole world went a deep black as he gulped, the wind rushing at his face and feeling cold. He felt unsafe. This was his only outlet.

 

He remembered a note written in the bathroom at a gas station he was in when he was a little kid.

 

_“Suicide victims are just angels that want to go back home.”_

 

Yeah. Jonathan was an angel, alright. He was the angel in Steve Harrington’s dreams, from now on. Maybe he’ll care about him after he takes the last step.

 

And that’s what he does. He feels the air around him whip at his hair and his world goes black.

 

He never did see Steve’s car pull up next to his own right before he jumped.

**Author's Note:**

> HAHAHA i'm crying that was the saddest thing ive ever written
> 
> find me on social media-  
> tumblr- lillianthekidd  
> insta- wasthedarkness


End file.
